Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

by Aleatha Romig

  I could have screamed with frustration. I was bent over, hands still cuffed at my back, and sucking in breaths though my teeth. My lower body and my bared nipples throbbed with every heartbeat.

  “Ready to show me?”

  “No.” I straightened. “I told you that. I can’t.”

  Klaus nodded. “Okay.” Then he recommenced our march.

  At the upstairs bathroom he pulled me into the room and got the shower on, then pushed me under the water with my clothes on. He unlinked the wrist cuffs. I’d had the shower redone, tiled beautifully, and it was large enough for two. My ass stung briefly but oh my God it was good. The water sluiced away all the dirtiness, all the craziness of the past few hours. Eyes closed, I reached to undo the front zip.

  “No,” he growled.

  I cracked open my eyelids.

  The man had gotten naked and he stepped in with a very nice erection pointing my way.

  I grinned. This was more like it.

  “No,” he repeated. “Don’t touch anything. Don’t speak. Do not take your clothes off.” Then he crowded me with his muscled body until I was pressed up against the tiles with his cock poking into my stomach. The water poured down us both.

  I couldn’t help moving against him. Inside me, now, I wanted to demand. I groaned. I couldn’t say that. The cane kept me silent.

  “Good. Quiet is good. Stop humping me.”

  I stopped, held my breath while we locked eyes.

  While he pinned me there, he shoved his hand to my throat and jammed me into the wall even more. I could breathe but couldn’t move. With his power demonstrated in every movement, and in every word, he leaned in until his warm breath brushed my ear. “Now you will make yourself come. Now. Not in one minute or one hour or tomorrow. Now. Put your hand between your legs.” He gave my neck a shake.

  Crap. I was stunned. Before this, he’d beaten me, given orders, done all sorts of things that had aroused me, but this…this had tipped me into some new land where Klaus was more than a man, something far more. This was not some role-player, this was him, his desires, and his sole aim was to master me. My willpower crumbled beneath his iron-hard stare.

  Shaking, I moved my arm. He gave me some distance though his hand stayed at my throat. I squeezed my trembling hand between his stomach and mine, the back of my hand grazing his cock. I slid my hand farther until my fingers reached my clit. That first gentle touch made me exhale sharply. I circled my clit, made it move, and I stirred to life that familiar tide. The pressure that had been building all night slammed back.

  “Keep going. Get yourself off. You were so wet down there in the living room. I could have slid inside your cunt in an instant. But I’m waiting. You want me in you?”

  God yes. I swallowed, then I nodded the smallest amount.

  “Stick one of your fingers up there. Fuck your cunt for five strokes.”

  I did. I shifted aside the remains of the catsuit where it had jammed up into my pussy. I moaned and panted and pushed my body into each stroke of my finger. The rhythm of an impending climax settled in fast. And he watched. Eyes on mine, on my face, though sometimes he glanced down at what my hand did, and always he held my throat. It was that, I think. Him taking me as his. Him telling me what to do. Hot. Sexually demanding. I pressed at my clit and fucked myself, got myself higher and higher, until the thump in my temples and my groin erupted into the mind-blowing feeling of a full-on orgasm. He put his hand on mine as I arched myself out from the wall and cried in pleasure.

  I opened my eyes. His hand was down there still, stopping me from pulling away.

  “Yes. You did it for me. Just like I wanted and it was beautiful.” Then he bowed his head and kissed me, crushing my mouth. My head thumped into the tiles. I gasped as he forced his tongue inside. My thighs trembled.

  “Stay. Stay there.”

  With no other warning he put his hands under my butt and lifted me up enough so he could slide his cock in. That first probe as the head of his cock found my entrance made my eyes roll back. Rapture poured through me. I was wet like he’d said. Nothing stopped the pump and exquisite glide of his cock. Water poured over us, drowning my whimpers when too forceful a thrust battered my hurt flesh into the wall. My pussy clamped onto him and he hammered in, again, again. I put my hands on the muscles of his shoulders and hung on. I was a woman swept by a storm. Every thrust sank home to the last inch, stretched my inner walls, and slid my back up the tiles. Each stroke wrenched a cry from me.

  When he came the warm swell of his cum triggered another ripple of pleasure. I groaned loudly, and slumped, held there only by his body. Used and tired, and everywhere on me either hurt or thrummed with pleasure.

  He hadn’t put on a condom. I guess he figured I was still on the pill. Maybe he’d seen the packets in my bag. I was on the pill. Luckily. Right then I didn’t care about the whys. All I cared about was my new appreciation of Klaus. Scary at times, yes. I had no inkling as to what he would do tomorrow, let alone in the next minute.

  I fumbled to understand myself. Humble, overwhelmed, yet I also had a strange sense of belonging. The world was a frightening place and for once I had someone who saw me at my most basic, as who I truly was, and still wanted me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Klaus

  ‡

  I woke before Jodie and lay on my side watching her breathe. Naked, pretty, and mine. All those curves…I admired her awhile, feeling my dick awaken too. I’d let her come to bed with me because that’s what I wanted. I could have made her go downstairs again but having her warm body beside me was far more satisfying. Last night I’d taken off the wrist and ankle cuffs to let them dry and I’d given her some soluble painkiller after watching her grimace when she tried to get comfortable.

  This was her bed, of course. The bedroom was pretty and feminine, with a sunny yellow, lime-green, and cream color scheme. In the distance I could hear waves surging up the beach and seagulls crying. Above our heads, the white lace curtains blew like wisps of nothing in the morning breeze.

  She faced away from me so I could see the marks I’d left on her skin. Real bruises striped and dotted her butt and thighs in many shades of darkening red and faint blue. They fascinated me and made me think about creating more.

  The cane would have to be rested for a few days while she recovered. But there was a crop in the box too. When I’d ordered online, the impact toys and implements of pain had drawn and fascinated me. Jodie might be horrified if she saw them. I planned to try them all in the coming days.

  This had changed from some onerous task—helping her do a weird documentary—into an adventure. This was what had been missing from our relationship. All those notions where she’d held herself distant from me—not happening anymore. This was what I needed. Control. My terms. I inhaled deeply. And I wanted this new perverse kink of mine too.

  When she stirred, I got up and retrieved the cuffs from the top of the antique chest of drawers as well as the collar I’d put there. My dick hardened as I strode back to the bed.

  I knelt beside it. Blearily, she opened her eyes. “Good morning, Jodie.”

  “Morning,” she whispered.

  A smile began to form on her lips.

  “That wasn’t a question.” I waited for her response, hoping it would be a good one.

  Her eyes flew open.

  “One word. Three hits.” I stood, slid my arm under her torso, and hauled her from the bed so she sprawled facedown onto the rug.

  Though she let loose small, angry screams and struggled like some beast—a cute sexy one—dragged from its burrow, I easily subdued her. I was heavier, stronger, and I could take down a man my size or even larger, if he wasn’t good at fighting. Jodie had zero chance.

  Straddling her, and sitting with some of my weight on her back, I got both cuffs back on, locked, then I clicked them together. By then she was breathing hard. Her body pushed me upward with each labored breath.

  I whacked her once, lightly, on the ass and s
he squealed and drummed her legs against the floor.

  “At least you had the sense not to say more words.”

  Her petite growl made my heart lift and my lips twisted into a grin. Such a fucking thrill, wrestling her down when she resisted.

  “You’re getting this on too.” I dangled the collar before her eyes.

  “Mm-mm!”

  “Oh, yes.” Then I looped it around her neck, buckled it, and locked it. “All those BDSM freaks like to have collaring ceremonies. “Not me.”

  I rolled her over so I could see her face, though I didn’t use my weight on her much at all, since that would have crushed her arms under her back. Her breasts wobbled and I couldn’t resist. I grabbed both her nipples and squeezed until she flashed a cross glare my way. Then I squeezed some more, only letting go when she bucked under me and whimpered.

  “This…” I ran my fingers under the collar. “Is staying on. It makes you my little captured slave. Doesn’t it?” I cocked an eyebrow.

  “No.” She bit her lip, then waited with widened eyes, as if afraid she’d gone too far.

  “That’s okay. I asked you. I disagree, of course. We have weeks, months, years for me to convince you. One day you’ll answer, yes. You’ll kneel and kiss my feet and say, Klaus, I’m your slave. Hey! Stop scowling.”

  More mind-fucking fun. Though part of me was ecstatic at the thought of that coming true. I gave her body a jiggle by rocking my thighs. Then, like a king bestowing some great reward, I raised my forefinger and planted it in the center of her forehead. “Not that it matters. If I say you’re mine, you’re mine.”

  Alarm flared in her eyes.

  I drifted my finger downward until I reached her mouth and I inserted my knuckle between those sweet lips. This time I didn’t have to ask. When I waited a while with my finger there, I saw some change come over her. Her body relaxed, her eyes seemed to soften, and she licked me, then she sucked and licked again. Her tongue tip was damp and soft.

  Slowly the anxiety in her eyes ebbed and vanished.

  I lowered my head, gently kissed beside her ear and whispered, “Good girl.”

  I would have liked to have fucked her then and there, but I didn’t.

  I pulled on jeans, aware of her nakedness beside me. We went to the kitchen and I ordered her to make pancakes. Cooking for me, although she’d done it before, I’d always sensed it was with reluctance. For a woman, Jodie had a poor mothering instinct. Not that I wanted mothering exactly. But I figured a partner should want to care for the other.

  But this time I had the upper hand. Though getting her to cook naked was bad when something hot might spatter. At my direction, she put on an apron that covered her front but not her ass. So while she cooked, I made sure to play with her tushie now and then. I squeezed it, I fondled it, and in spite of her squeals, I even bit it once. And I dreamed of fucking it. Damn the woman had a nice ass… a nice bruised ass.

  “Now, you’re done,” I said, when the fry pan stuff was finished with and a pile of pancakes awaited on a plate. “You can sit up here.” I patted the counter top to the right of the sink. “Spread your legs and play with yourself.”

  The look of horror on her face was amazing but she was learning. She compressed her lips.

  “That bothers you? Doing it here? After cooking? Good. Get up. Obey and I won’t use the cane as your punishment. Take off the apron, though.” I advanced and squashed her against the counter while I reached behind her to undo the apron bow. I bent down and gave her a few kisses while I fiddled with the cord and unraveled the knot. Her sighs weren’t long in coming.

  I kissed her again, drinking in those sighs.

  “Good.” I pulled away, watching her as I did so. She was so complacent compared to the Jodie I once knew. It was kind of beautiful. If I could keep her this way forever, I would.

  I took the apron off over her head, and tossed it aside.

  “Up.” Again I patted the counter. This time she slid along and carefully hitched herself upward, sat, then spread her legs, ever so slowly.

  God damn. That would never get old. All those pink bits on women would never ever get old. But…look nonchalant, in command. No, fuck it, not doable. I held back a swallow then stepped away and leaned against the wall with my erection pushing at the zip on the jeans.

  “Let the show commence. Play with yourself.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jodie

  ‡

  This was not normal. No one sat on a kitchen counter naked and masturbated for a…no, he wasn’t a boyfriend. What was he? I stared. Klaus wanted me to say I was his slave, which made him my Master? No way. That was one step too far for this liberated woman, no matter how many erotic books I read.

  “Start now,” he growled.

  I jumped. My hand went to my groin, to my clit. I sucked in a shaky breath at the way my clit had suddenly become the center of everything—of his gaze, of my body, of what I was doing. Things awakened, tingled. My finger and thumb down there found that rightful place I recalled from so many nights alone. Only this time Klaus was looking…like last night. The amazing last night. It bothered me, then as I adjusted my thinking, it aroused me more than I thought possible.

  I’d done this. I closed my eyes and played. Fingers manipulated and rubbed, thrust up inside me to the sound of liquid squishes. My clit rose higher and welcomed the rhythmic caress of my finger and thumb. I arched, hearing my own ragged breathing, and knew that with a little more I’d be there, gasping in ecstasy.

  “Stop.”

  Incredulous, I opened my eyes.

  Klaus shook his finger. “No.”

  Obedience had become second nature. I withdrew my hand and despite the throbbing in my groin, I waited, still with my groin presented for him.

  “Hop off, turn around and lie your front on the counter with your ass out for me to see.”

  Like most of his recent commands, I could see little if any emotion behind it. Yet I knew he must be aroused. The bulge in his jeans said so. That, got me going. I loved the thought I could do this. I didn’t care if he wanted to thrash my rear end and make me scream. I wanted to please him.

  Oh fuck. Bad. I’m going down some Alice in Kinkyland rabbit hole here.

  I slid off, wriggling as my poor bottom stuck here and there. Then I turned, and lay on the counter, my breasts on the cool top, so I was showing him my ass. I waited. My awfully loud clock on the wall ticked like crazy. I shifted, arched, and presented my ass even higher, knowing what a wanton slut I must look like. That got me even hotter.

  “You look so fuckable.”

  Those words riveted me to the spot. Klaus hardly ever swore.

  As his finger toyed with the edge of my entrance, slowly swirling around, stretching me, my eyelids fluttered at the pleasure. Then he stopped.

  “This first. To clear the slate.”

  He struck my ass with his hand, twice. The slaps rang in the little kitchen and left me panting, head on the counter, mouth agape as I huffed hot breaths into the laminate. That, I’d liked. So hot. It hurt but the afterglow had made my whole lower body come alive in the very best way.

  I heard the unzip of his jeans.

  His cock pressed into my entrance.

  I quivered, waited, felt the slow push and slide inside. The slow stretch. Oh God.

  “Doing good, Jodie. Do not move.”

  I didn’t. But I groaned as he pushed his cock in, and then out. The shunting movement was so excruciatingly gradual that I wanted to thrust back. But I didn’t. I was good. I bit my forearm, and let him do it all. A climax built and built as he kept going, fucking me slowly. He paused, balls deep, so deep I was filled to the brim and gasping, groaning.

  “Now, I’m stopping. I’m going to fuck your mouth instead. I’m coming inside your mouth, with your juices on my dick, and you will swallow.”

  Then he pulled out and was gone.

  I keened.

  I fucking keened. I wanted him back in. I wiggled my butt, enti
cing him. One. More. Thrust.

  “No.” He slapped my butt gently. “Turn. Kneel. Open your mouth.”

  This, was pushing it. Blow jobs, I could do, but when I wanted him inside me so fiercely? I slumped with my forehead to the laminate. Then I did as he ordered. Exactly. I slipped to my knees.

  And I opened my mouth, knowing what he intended. I met his eyes.

  “Eyes down, Jodie,” he said quietly.

  I did it. I let myself just be. I’d never tasted myself but that somehow made this better. I thrilled to the thought of being used.

  With his hands on the counter to either side of my head, he thrust into my mouth, slow enough to let me get used to his bulk inside me there. Saliva built, slickening. He almost reached the back of my throat. I coughed, gagged, but he stayed there. I could do this. Had before. I swallowed desperately, eyes watering. Then he began to fuck my mouth in earnest. The rhythmic in and out let me catch my breath just enough. Just. Enough.

  “That’s. Good,” he said huskily.

  His thrusts intensified and his cock went in and out faster, harder. At last I felt the thickening and pulse as he came. His hands wrapped in my hair. His cum jetted down my throat. Semen reminded me of bad oysters, but I gulped it down and when he withdrew, I swallowed air, gulped some more.

  When he released my hair, I looked upward, pleading with my eyes. Now, me?

  “No.” He shook his head. “Now we eat. Rule. You stay on the floor when you eat.”

  Crap. He had to be joking.

  No. He was not.

  *

  The plate was in front of me as I kneeled beside his chair. I stared down at it. Klaus ruffled my hair with his hand and passed me the maple syrup. I looked up at him and he gave me a small knowing smile, as if he waited to see what I’d do.